The Johns House
by sweetie buttons
Summary: Based on the fic June's Diary. Several moments that weren't seen from June's limited perspective.
1. Midnight Adventures

"Mother and Father would have a cow if they saw this." Sam knelt to pour wine into the three glasses. They were regular, not wine glasses.

"Not if we keep our mouths shut," noted Alicia.

"Make sure you do that." He stood up holding two of them, careful not to knock the third one or the bottle over, and handed a glass to Alicia.

"Of course I will. I'm not suicidal yet." Alicia rolled her eyes as she took the glass.

"But you might mention it by accident it or something," suggested Sam, kneeling down and handing the third glass to Betty. "Say you're still thinking about this tomorrow, and accidentally let it slip at breakfast—"

"I'm not that thick," retorted Alicia in an offended tone. "I'm top of my class, in fact."

"In math, maybe, but not in common sense," noted Sam.

She playfully shoved him with her free hand. "If there was a class for that, I'd ace it as well."

"Careful," he warned, gripping his glass tighter. "If I spilled this on myself, I'd really give it away."

"Not if you washed it," noted Betty.

"I suppose, but I'd have to do it without anyone noticing." Sam looked around, struggling to see in the obscuring darkness. Light from the moon illuminated the ground, but missed the covered porch. He squinted at the front door of the house. He couldn't see anyone.

"Sam, quit being paranoid," scolded Betty. "Who'd be up at this hour?"

"I can think of someone," said Alicia bitterly. "Did you know June was spying on me all day yesterday? She even went into the bathroom while I was in it, the beast. Trying to figure out all my secrets, I suppose."

"But she'd be asleep now," noted Betty. "You know June, she'd never miss a chance to get her beauty sleep."

Alicia laughed. "I suppose that's true. Now, are we going to have a drink or not?"

Sam raised his glass toward Alicia and she and Betty took the cue, clinking their glasses together. Sam tilted his head back and took a sip, feeling the tart, bitter wine slide down his throat. He hadn't thought much for it at first, but it had quickly grown on him.

"Eurgh." He lowered the glass to see his sister grimacing. "It's too bitter for me."

Betty spat it on the ground. "Me too." She wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

"Try again," suggested Sam. "You'll get used to it quick."

Alicia raised her glass to her lips again, grimacing again the moment she took a sip and when she was done swallowing. She paused, looking contemplative. "It's fine," she decided. "A little bitter of an aftertaste, but it has a sweetness to it that goes well with the bitterness."

"Since when did you become a food critic?" teased Sam.

"A wine critic, you mean," corrected Betty.

"You try, Bets," suggested Sam. "It's not bad once you get used to it. It's even good in small amounts."

"Oh, I don't know..."

"Don't tell me you're too much of a coward," teased Alicia.

"Oh, alright." Betty raised the glass to her lips and managed to keep the liquid down this time.

"How was it?" asked Sam once she finished swallowing.

"Uh... alright, I suppose," conceded Betty. "But I don't think I want anymore."

"Where's you get the bottle from, anyway?" inquired Alicia, raising the glass to her lips again.

An impish grin crossed Sam's face. "I may or may not have stole it from one of my dormmates."

"Sam!" Alicia gasped in mock horror. "You wouldn't."

"Hey, he already had plenty of the stuff," defended Sam. "What's one less?"

"I suppose that makes it better," Alicia said sarcastically. She took another sip of the wine. "I see what you mean, Sam. It grows on you fast."

"Careful," teased Sam. "I don't want you becoming an underage alcoholic. How will I explain that to Mother and Father?"

She glared at him, but the hateful expression when she was actually angry was absent. "Last time I checked, dear brother, it was your idea."

"I don't recall you having any objections, dear sister."

"Oh, you practically forced me," Alicia joked. "You could've done this yourself. You know I didn't want to intrude on you."

Betty laughed. "Don't be stupid, Alicia."

"Quiet, you two. Now, watch. I tried this with the boys last year." Pausing for dramatic effect, Sam took the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"Your parents will _really_ have a cow over this," noted Betty.

"Don't worry, I didn't steal it this time," said Sam. "One of my dormmates was kind enough to give it to me."

"Sure they were." Alicia rolled her eyes.

"No, really. It's just one packet, after all."

"I'll take your word for it." Alicia reached for the packet, causing him to hold it out of her grasp.

"Sa-am!" She jumped a little, trying to grab it from his outstretched hand. "Quit being a prat."

Grinning, he lowered it and took a cigarette out, placing it between his lips. He took a box of matches out of his other pocket and held the cigarettes out to Alicia. Taking the hint, she took it as he took out a match, the cigarette still in his mouth, and scraped it against the box to light it. He then lit the cigarette, feeling the harsh smoke slide down his throat.

This kind of thing was exciting to him. His parents would never guess that their mature oldest boy would encourage his sister and girlfriend to smoke and drink underage. Sometimes he got tired of being the sensible oldest child.

"How is it?" asked Alicia.

"You'll just have to see for yourself." Sam smirked slightly. He knew full well how she'd likely react.

He handed her a cigarette. "I'll light it for you. You have to take the match after I do."

"I know, I know." She placed it between her lips, like she had seen him do. He raised the match and carefully lit it for her, and she quickly took hold of it. After about two seconds, she spat the cigarette onto the ground, coughing and wheezing, while waving the match to put it out.

Sam fought back a laugh. He had reacted the exact same way when he had first tried a cigarette.

"That's absolutely dreadful!" she wheezed. "I'm never trying it again. How can you stand that stuff?"

Sam laughed. "I don't mind it, but I don't think it's anything special either. My dormmates can't seem to get enough of it, though."

Sam paused. He thought he heard a noise, a dull thumping sound, from inside the house.

"Did you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?" asked Alicia, still coughing.

"That noise."

"What noise?" asked Betty.

"Nothing," dismissed Sam. "I'm probably just being paranoid."

"What did Dick and Roger think of the cigarettes?" asked Alicia.

"They hated it even more than you," informed Sam. "They had to chug water down to drown it out. Then again, they were younger."

"I can't blame them," choked Alicia. "Did they have the wine too?"

"No, my dormmates wouldn't let me borrow any."

"Didn't stop you tonight," noted Alicia. "Betty, do yourself a favor and skip it."

"I don't know," said Betty. "This might be my only chance to have it. You know what my parents are like."

Alicia shrugged, mostly recovered now. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

Sam handed Betty a cigarette. After lighting it for her, she took the match. She managed longer than Alicia—five seconds, Sam counted—before taking the cigarette out of her mouth, coughing slightly.

"Well?" prompted Sam.

She made a face, waving the match. "It's not dreadful, but it's not good either. I feel like I need a glass of water now."

"Let's go get one," suggested Sam. "We can't get in trouble for that, at least. We'll also have to find some tissues to wipe up the cigarettes."

"That's true," agreed Alicia. "If anyone catches us, we'll say we woke up in the middle of the night and felt thirsty. Now let's go. I think I've had enough excitement for one night."

**This is based on another Malory Towers fic called June's Diary. Ficception, I know. You HAVE to read it, it's absolutely hilarious. June's Diary, I mean, not this fic.**


	2. Leaving

"I'm so sorry," apologised John, internally cursing his family. "I—"

"John, it's fine." Ramona sounded amused. "They weren't that bad, honestly."

"Yes, they were. I really am sorry. I thought they'd behave better—" To be honest, he didn't.

"No, really," she interrupted. "My family's worse." John didn't know much about her family, as she didn't mention them much, but from the few times she did, she didn't seem too close to them. "You know, for someone who supposedly doesn't like strangers, your uncle was very nice to me.

John winced, knowing she had caught his lie. "Look, I'm sorry. I just didn't want to introduce you to my family. After today, I think you know why."

"I already knew you were lying," admitted Ramona. "You're not that good a liar."

"What? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I would've made the same excuse if you wanted to see my family," explained Ramona. "I thought yours would be better. And they were."

"I don't think I want to meet your family then."

Ramona laughed. "You won't have to anyway, since we're leaving soon."

"I wish you didn't have to." John had never been with a girl before. Most of them considered him stuffy and boring, like his family did. Ramona was the only one who hadn't teased him about his fixation on studying and rules.

"Neither do I," sighed Ramona. "I'll miss you."

"I'm sure you'll make new friends wherever you're going," assured John.

"I don't know..."

"Why wouldn't you? Didn't you have friends at the other places you moved to?"

"Not really," admitted Ramona. "I did meet some people, but most of them didn't want to talk to me. Because, you know..." She looked down sheepishly.

John knew how resentful Ramona was about her background. She had sometimes told him about her dislike of moving all the time, as well as the discrimination she had faced.

"Well, those people were just narrow-minded." John surprised himself with his next words. "You're one of the nicest people I've met." He meant it. She was going away soon, so he had to tell her. She showed interest in his interests which his family called boring, and didn't mock him like they did, didn't call him boring and stuck up and Mr. Perfect.

Ramona looked surprised, but then smiled. "Thank you. You're one of the nicest people I've met, too."

John was very surprised to hear her say that. She must just be saying that because he said it, and she wanted to be nice. "Thank you."

"I mean it," she insisted suddenly. "Most people I met didn't give me the time of day. You're the only one who's really seen me as more than just the gypsy girl."

At John's surprised expression, she quickly added, "Sorry if that was weird or anything, It's just, I'm going away soon, so I felt like I had to tell you."

"No, it's fine," assured John. "I feel the same way. My family always teased me and called me boring. You're much easier to be around than them." John just wished he didn't have to sneak out in the middle of the night to spend time with her.

"You're not boring," assured Ramona. "Well, you are a bit of a goody-two-shoes, I can't deny that. But you're nicer than most of my family, that's for sure."

"Is your dad still... you know...?" Ramona had told him about her dad's drinking problems. When John first met him at the fair, he had been loud and jolly, but he could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Yeah." Ramona sighed. "It started getting better, but then..."

"I'm sorry," apologised John. "How about your brothers?" She was the oldest child of five, and the only girl.

"They're obnoxious as ever," she replied. "I don't know whether I prefer them or my dad sometimes."

"Can't be worse than my brothers." In truth, June was worse than both of them combined. Tommy was a strange child, no doubt about it, but Matt was sensible enough. June, on the other hand, was on a completely different level.

"Trust me, they can," insisted Ramona. She paused, looking around as if to make sure no one was watching, even though they were quite a while away from John's house in the countryside. "Listen, John, can I tell you something?"

"What is it?" John wondered if she was going to tell him more about her family.

"I just have to tell you this," said Ramona. "But you have to promise not to lecture me."

"I won't. And I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to." John inwardly hoped she wasn't doing anything dangerous or illegal after making the promise.

"Thank you," said Ramona. "You know about my dad's drinking? Well, yesterday, I wanted to know how his alcohol was like."

"Ramona..." John wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

"I just had a little, I swear," she defended. "I stole it while he wasn't looking. And it was awful! I don't know how he can get addicted to that stuff." She paused, likely waiting for the lecture she was expecting from John.

If one of his siblings or cousins told him this, they'd no doubt get one. John wouldn't relent telling them the dangers of alcohol and underage drinking and letting his disapproval known. But instead of the scorn he expected to feel at such a declaration, he instead felt touched that she had confided in him. She was always very private about her family life. So was he. He didn't push, and neither did she.

"Well, thanks for telling me," said John. "But you're not going to try again, right? Your father might catch you."

"Trust me, I'm not," assured Ramona. "That stuff was disgusting." She looked imploringly at him. "Now, your turn."

"What?"

"You tell me a secret you have."

John paused, taken aback by the insistence. "You know, it's funny. For a while, you were my secret," he confessed. "My cousin was blackmailing me by telling me that he'd tell everyone my secret. Though now, I suspect he didn't know I had one and just pretended he did to keep me quiet." John was surprised he hadn't figured out sooner. He supposed he was just paranoid. He already felt guilty for sneaking out to talk to Ramona. It had been her idea. He'd been reluctant, but eventually caved in after she made it clear it was one of the only ways they could talk.

"Keep you quiet about what?"

John hesitated. "You see, I was going to tell my aunt and uncle about his relationship with a girl."

"He wanted to keep it a secret?"

"Yes. He just didn't want his parents knowing and getting on his case about it."

"But why did you want to tell your aunt and uncle?"

"I just thought it wasn't right for them to keep things a secret from them," explained John.

"Like you kept me a secret?" asked Ramona

John paused. He realised she was right. He had felt exactly the same way about his relationship with Ramona. He didn't want his family knowing about it and having to face all their teasing, so he kept it a secret. "Yes," he admitted.

"You really didn't need to do that, John," said Ramona. "If he didn't want them knowing, you shouldn't have told them. You didn't tell them about me."

John sighed. "I guess you're right." He still felt uncomfortable with the displays of affection Sam and Betty regularly showed in front of everyone. At least he kept his relationship with Ramona a secret. "I wish you didn't have to go."

"I hope we can keep in touch somehow," sighed Ramona. "We'll have to hit the road later. Like we always do."

"At least we have each other's phone numbers," said John. They had exchanged them when they begun their relationship, though Ramona had warned John they couldn't communicate in such a way to do so, since her family didn't have much access to phones. Still, he wrote it down on a piece of paper and kept it locked in his drawer.

"I'll call you whenever I can," assured Ramona. "You know, I used to be glad Dad didn't care about our relationship, but now I wish he cared a little about finding a way for us to stay in touch." She had told him one day she had accidentally let him slip to one of her brothers, and the news had spread like wildfire.

"I'll miss you," said John.

"Me, too."

Suddenly, she leaned forward and kissed him. Not the pecks on the cheek she sometimes gave him, but on the lips, heavy and passionate. He was taken aback before kissing back, forgetting everything except the softness of her lips on his. He knew that, even if he never saw her again, he'd never forget that moment.


	3. The Birds and the Bees

"Moira, are you going to teach me about the birds and the bees now?"

Moira sighed quietly, not wavering her attention from the notes she was writing. "Not now, dear. I'm busy, see."

"But when?"

"Later."

"When later?"

"When I'm done studying."

"You're studying? But it's the holidays." She was used to the girls at school telling her that. "That's when I take a break from school."

"I'm older than you, so I have more schoolwork," explained Moira. She finished the sentence she was writing and glanced at her schoolbook again.

"But when will you be done studying?"

"I don't know." She couldn't prevent the irritation that crept into her voice. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? "Why don't you ask someone else?" She internally scoffed at the idea of June or Alicia teaching him about "the birds and the bees".

"They just laughed when I told them what I knew about the birds and the bees," noted Tommy. "I don't get it. Did I say something wrong?"

"No, you didn't." Moira inwardly shook her head at the others' childishness. They were only slightly younger than her, yet behaved so childishly.

"Then why did they laugh?"

Moira wasn't in the mood for all the badgering. She realised he wouldn't leave her alone until she humored him. She couldn't concentrate with all the questions, either. With a sigh, she put her pen down and turned to him. "Alright. I'll tell you."

Tommy's face lit up. "Really?"

"Yes." She planned to tell him about the literal birds and the bees. In a way, she was glad they had used that euphemism and not something more inappropriate. She'd lecture until he grew bored and left. The girls at her school always dreaded her lectures. "You see, there are all kinds of birds. Pigeons, parrots, hawks, eagles—"

"I know that," interrupted Tommy.

"Then which one would you like to learn about?"

"Any. Do they eat other animals?" His eyes lit up with excitement at the thought.

He was a strange child, that was for sure. "Yes, I'm fairly sure they do."

"What kind of animals?"

"Worms and insects, usually. They can also eat fish, snakes—"

"Snakes?" Tommy interrupted. "Cool! Do they ever fight?"

"I don't know," replied Moira, turning back to her notes.

"If they did, who do you think would win?"

"The bird, I guess," replied Moira dismissively. This was ridiculous. She should be studying, not discussing which animal would win in a fight.

"I think the snake would," suggested Tommy. "I mean, it can bite the bird and poison it. But the bird could fly away."

"I suppose." Moira started writing again. "Some snakes are venomous, but not all of them are."

"If it was, would there be blood when it bit the snake?" Tommy sounded excited at the thought. He really was a strange child. Moira had seen him mashing up a tomato at lunch, calling it a person and pretending the red juice was blood.

"Maybe," replied Moira. "There is blood when snakes bite humans." She couldn't believe she was actually paying attention to his ridiculous questions.

"If a snake tried to bite me, I'd punch it and make it bleed," Tommy decided.

"That'd just make it easier for it to bite you." Moira smiled, slightly amused. She had to admit, he was somewhat amusing to talk to. Children had such funny opinions, even on something as boring and technical as what birds ate.

She'd never admit it, but she had a soft spot for children. She could only imagine what the girls at school would say. Bossy, stuck-up, boring, dictator Moira, liking kids?

"Oh, right... well, I'd scream at it and scare it off."

"I'm sure you would." Moira started writing again, determined to ignore him.

But his questions persisted. "What about bees? I heard they die when they sting you. They'd have to be really careful to use their sting. Like, if a person was about to kill them. But then they'd just die anyway. So what's the point of stinging them?"

"To get back at the person, maybe," suggested Moira. "The bee would make the person suffer too by stinging them."

"I won't try to kill a bee, then," decided Tommy. "I wouldn't want them to sting me."

Moira put down her pen. "You know, only female bees have stingers. Male bees don't."

"Why?"

"It's just how they're built." Moira gave up trying to pay attention to her notes.

"Not even the king bee has a stinger?"

"There isn't a king bee, only a queen bee."

"Why?" Moira remembered how much little kids liked asking that question.

"Because bees prefer girls to lead them. They're different from humans, you see." Moira surprised herself with the joke she made.

Of course, Tommy took it literally. "Oh. I wouldn't like to be a bee, then. I wouldn't want to not have a stinger, or be led by a girl."

"Good thing we're not bees then." Moira picked up her pen again. She had humored him long enough. "Alright, dear, I think I've taught you enough for now. I have to get back to studying."

"Okay." Tommy sounded disappointed, but then perked up. "Thank you for teaching me, Moira. Can you do it again later, when you're not busy?"

"Maybe." Moira wasn't as put off by the thought as she expected.

"Oh, can I ask you one more thing, Moira?"

"What is it, dear?" Moira started writing again.

"Do you have any idea what I could use as fake blood without making a mess?"

"What?" He was a strange child, alright.

"I tried red paint before, but Aunt and Uncle yelled at me for getting the carpet dirty," he explained. "Then I tried tomatoes at lunch, but that got all messy too."

Moira paused, looking at Tommy again. "How about clay? It just needs to be red, and you can put it in a container once you're finished. You just need to ask your aunt and uncle to buy some for you."

Tommy beamed. "Thanks, Moira! I'll ask Aunt and Uncle."

As he happily left her room, Moira turned back to her studying. The lesson hadn't been nearly as bad as she thought it would be. Tommy was a rather nice kid, if a bit strange. Nicer than June and Alicia, that was for sure.

**Tommy really is a strange child. Moira is actually quite nice to him, calling him "dear" and offering to tutor him.**


	4. Rendezvous at the Stables

"Not the most romantic location, I admit," joked Sam. A hand trailed up Betty's blouse.

"The manure doesn't smell so bad once you drown it out." As if to prove her point, she leaned forward and kissed him again, pushing him against the stable wall. He found that she was right. The feel of her lips and pressure of her body made the stable smells less than an afterthought.

"And you can't beat the privacy," added Betty as she pulled away slightly, just enough to speak.

"Well, we do have an audience. The horses."

"We're quite a bit away from them." She kissed him again, roughly, stroking his blond hair.

"That's true." He wrapped both his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

He could only imagine what his sister would say if she found out about this. Not just the inevitable teasing, which he was prepared for. Alicia and Betty were best friends, closer than even Sam and Alicia, even though the latter pair were siblings. They were like sisters, twins even. And Alicia, despite her sharp tongue and dry wit, could be quite protective of her friend. Sam knew she'd be less than pleased about someone dating Betty, even if that person was her brother.

No, best to keep it a secret. And the idea of Sam's parents knowing was even more out of the question. The last thing they needed were nosy, interfering, "wanting to help" parents getting on their case.

Sam stroked Betty's hair as he kissed her. He had felt a connection to her ever since she had started staying at their house for the holidays. She was very pretty, and a lot like Alicia, as tough and sharp-tongued. One thing had led to another, and they had kissed, safely away from any unwanted eyes.

Sam felt the whole idea exciting, having a secret, even if it was something like dating his sister's best friend. The only problem was that Betty could get rather jealous at times. Whenever he so much as talked to another girl in the market, she'd pull him aside and demand to know what he was doing. But she mostly kept it toned down, not wanting anyone else to catch on.

Sam jumped, immediately backing away from Betty in surprise, as a shrill, piercing scream assaulted his ears. At first he thought someone had gotten seriously injured, perhaps broken a bone, but when he turned to the screamer, he wasn't surprised to see who it was.

June. Of course. He should've known. She always had a flair for dramatics.

Before Sam or Betty had the chance to explain anything, she had already turned around and ran out of the stables and back towards the house.

"Blow!" cursed Betty, straightening up and smoothing down her blouse as if worried someone would notice and ask why it was so dishevelled. "There goes our privacy. She'll be telling everyone in the house what she saw."

"No, she won't," retorted Sam. "She'll spend quite a lot of time freaking out first. You know June and her theatrics. I always thought she'd have a good shot at being an actress."

Betty laughed. "I suppose that's true. But I'll be surprised if everyone in the house didn't hear that scream. I thought someone was dying at first."

"They'll just dismiss it as her being dramatic, as usual," replied Sam. "Hopefully."

"So what should we do?"

"Go after her, I guess," replied Sam. "Try to threaten her into keeping quiet about this. Or beg her."

"I'd prefer to threaten her," said Betty as she made her way out of the stables.


	5. Midnight Kisses

"I must go back home now." Jeremy paused. "You know, you could offer to accompany me."

Andrew giggled. "That girl really was crazy."

"Tell me about it," Jeremy groaned. "I was ready to murder her when you ran in."

"I'm sorry," said Andrew. "For slapping you, I mean. You didn't deserve it."

"No, but June did."

"I couldn't even make out what she was saying," said Andrew. "Something about George loving her again, and the devil incarnate."

"Oh, that was just June being herself." Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Oh, well. At at least we're back together now, right?" He impulsively leaned forward and kissed Andrew, who happily returned.

"And it's all thanks to her," Andrew reminded as he pulled away.

"Well, yeah," conceded Jeremy. "I guess I owe her a thank you. If I decide to forgive her."

"I don't know if you should," admitted Andrew. "She really was crazy."

"Yeah, but I'll forgive her eventually. I always do. I mean, she forgave me when I published a story about her to the newspaper, so..." Jeremy looked down sheepishly.

Andrew stifled a laugh. "You and Abigail still running that thing?"

"Hey, it's way more successful than it was before," argued a defensive Jeremy. "We're the second—third most read newspaper in the village."

"How many newspapers are read in the village again?"

"Oh, shut up." As if to make him, Jeremy kissed him again. It worked.

When they pulled away, Andrew teased, "Little eager today, are we?"

"Hey, I thought I lost you for a moment," argued Jeremy. "Listen. Next time when you think I'm with someone else, or even doing anything to harm you, talk to me first, okay? Don't jump to conclusions.

"Okay." Andrew looked sheepishly at Jeremy. "I really am sorry about slapping you."

"Hey, it's fine. I can't even feel it anymore."

"You sure?" Andrew leaned forward and kissed Jeremy on the cheek.

"Now who's eager?" With a laugh, Jeremy leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend again. Maybe he'd put off going home for a while.


	6. Forgiveness

"Bridget—"

"Get out."

"Please. Just give me a minute."

"Fine."

Bridget didn't look up as Moira entered the room. Moira wondered what she should say.

I'm sorry? The girls at school would be shocked to hear her say that. Cold, stern, dictator Moira, apologising to someone?

"I'm sorry." Alright, she had said it.

Bridget didn't react.

"Really," she added. "I shouldn't have said it. I was just so angry, and—"

"Yeah, like you always are about me being in your life."

The words made Moira wince. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it? Because I think you made it pretty clear with 'I wish you would shoot yourself and get out of my freaking life'."

Moira winced again. She had never heard Bridget speak in that cold tone of voice before, even to her. She even preferred the angry yelling she used during their arguments.

"I didn't mean it," she insisted. "You're..." She paused. She was never good at expressing her feelings, especially for her sister. "I don't want you to kill yourself."

Bridget snorted. "Gee, I think that's the nicest thing I've heard you say to me."

Moira was surprised to feel a flash of annoyance flare up inside her. Before she could stop herself, she said, "Oh, come off it, Bridget. As if you've always had nice things to say about me. You're not exactly a saint either."

Bridget finally looked up at that, her cheeks flushing and a spark of anger in her eyes. "Maybe I would if you were nicer."

Moira willed herself to calm down as she filled the familiar anger flaring up. The last thing she wanted was to get into another argument with her sister.

"I'm sorry, Bridget. I know I wasn't very nice to you..." Bridget snorted, and Moira continued before she could make another side comment. "And you don't have to forgive me. But if you don't, I hope you remember this. I didn't mean what I said, at all." She paused. "You're..." Just say it, she told herself. "You're part of the only family I have left. I don't want to lose you." There, she had done it.

Bridget looked up again, surprise and then a flash of anger crossing her face. "Who are you and what have you done with Moira?"

Yes, what had she done with Moira? That sweet, playful, happy little girl who loved her baby sister more than anything. She had disappeared with her father.

"Like I said, you don't have to forgive me. Just remember that."

Bridget's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Moira. I don't think I can."

"Forgive me?"

"Yes," replied Bridget honestly. "But I will remember that."

"Thank you," replied Moira. Her heart was still heavy, but lighter than before. She hadn't received her sister's forgiveness, but she had received her understanding. It was the closest she would get to saying "I love you". At least, after she had become the cold dictator everyone knew her as.

**After Moira has that argument with Bridget, she refuses to forgive her, but then agrees to talk to her when she doesn't approve of her dating boys. That's a bit confusing. Still, I always found their argument interesting. Bridget kept going on about how Moira had "no right" to say what she said. I really want to know what she said. It wasn't as bad as "I wish you would shoot yourself" because she actually felt bad about saying that.**


	7. New Friend

Moira sank onto the bed in her room, tears filling her eyes. She could sob if she wanted to. No one could see her, the cold, emotionless dictator, breaking down. But she blinked back her tears. This was hardly something to cry about.

She had known she was abnormal ever since she started noticing how pretty other girls in her form were. Her mother had made it clear that it wasn't right, along with most other people she heard parroting how wrong it was. She was sure the girls at school would be disgusted if they found out she thought that way about them, especially considering how much they despised her. But she couldn't help it. She wrote, in the private pages of her notebook, about how pretty Gwendoline Mary was, how beautiful Catherine Grey was, even if she could be annoying.

And now, everyone knew. The whole town knew how abnormal Moira Linton was. And it was all thanks to June Johns. Moira knew she disliked her—the hate messages had been more than enough proof of that—but she didn't think she'd be so cruel to publish a story like that to the town newspaper. As if going through her private notebook and teasing her about what she read wasn't bad enough. She was sure June, her sister, and Alicia were all having a good laugh about this.

Her sister... what did Bridget think? Was she even more disgusted by her than she usually was? Or did she consider it a hilarious joke? It was probably the latter. Moira had already caught her stealing her notebook and reading it with June. June, who she was closer to than her own sister. They were probably having a good laugh over her right now.

And Catherine... Moira really felt something for her. It wasn't just because she was pretty, though she was. They were sort of friends. They were two of the most unpopular girls in their form, and both held back a year. It was only natural they got along better than they did with the others. Moira did sneer at her and call her a martyr, but there was a more affectionate tone in her voice when she did so. Whenever she was around the girl, she felt like she had a crush. It was what some of the other girls had talked about having on boys outside of school. But that was normal. What Moira felt for another girl wasn't.

Just then, she heard a knock on the door. Maybe it was June, coming to laugh at her some more.

"Whoever you are, get out."

"I'm not in yet." Oh, she recognised that voice. It was the boy who run the town gossip newspaper, along with his sister. Jeremy, she believed his name was. So he was the one coming to laugh at her.

"Oh, god. Not you."

"I came to apologise for my sister's behavior. She published that story without my knowledge or permission. I never would've allowed it to be published."

Moira scoffed, not believing that for a second. As if someone running a gossip newspaper could resist something so interesting. "And I'm supposed to believe you?"

"Could you at least let me in? I feel stupid talking to a door!"

"Oh, alright." What did it matter if he wanted to laugh at her? She might as well get it over with now.

"Alright. Make me believe you didn't publish it."

"Isn't it obvious?" Oh, right. She had seen him flirt with several of June's brothers and cousins (aside from Alicia).

"Oh, right." Well, at least there was someone else like her.

"I'm really sorry. I know what it's like. If it's any help, nobody really cares about your story. They're too busy freaking out about Alicia and Betty."

"What? But why? They were only smoking, if June can even be believed." Then again, they were much more popular than she was. But lots of teenage girls were caught smoking, while not many were caught having feelings for other girls.

"Something about them being a bad influence or something. Anyway, Alicia's lived here her whole life, and Betty's been coming over for the holidays since forever. People don't know you that well."

"_Nobody_ knows me that well." It was true. They only knew her as a cold, unfeeling dictator. And maybe she was.

"Well, maybe that's because you don't really know yourself, Moira." His voice was gentle. "Once you learn to understand and accept yourself, more people would like you and want to be friends with you."

It was a nice sentiment, but ultimately a meaningless one. Moira knew she could mever let her guard down, never show emotions. She hadn't since before her father's death.

"Anyway, are you coming out?" So they could laugh at her some more?

"No. I am not going out, and I am not eating at the same table as them." Moira paused, realising June often did the same thing. But she was just being dramatic. Moira had a good reason for not wanting to leave her room.

"You can't stay in here forever! Just ignore them!"

"Well, that's not very easy, with stupid June laughing like a hyena." June. Just saying her name made Moira bristle. She really was the most irritating girl she had met in her life.

"Pretend she's a _real_ hyena."

Moira couldn't help it. She let out a laugh. "That might work."

"Well? Are you coming out?"

Moira was about to reply when she heard laughter outside the door. She tensed up. Of course. June was probably eavesdropping. She and Jeremy burst open the door and started yelling at June and the other girl with her. Jeremy's sister, Moira thought. Eventually they ran off.

Jeremy turned apologetically to Moira. "I'm sorry about my sister. Again."

"It's fine," said Moira. "I know you didn't publish it. I suppose June must've read my notebook."

"Doesn't she have a diary? She was complaining about everyone reading it. Seems a bit hypocritical of her."

"Mine isn't a diary," Moira protested feebly. "It's a record of personal events and experiences."

Jeremy looked amused. "Isn't that the definition of a diary?"

"Maybe." Moira knew she was too old to have a diary, but she liked recording all her thoughts and experiences. And now everyone knew about that little secret too, she realised. The blasted article had talked about it.

"Well, I think you should come out soon. It's really not that bad. June and my sister are the only ones who care about your story."

"That's two too many," Moira griped.

"I know, but like I said, you should just ignore them. Some other people aren't happy at June for what she did, either."

Moira found it hard to believe everyone wasn't gossping about her, but nodded. "Well, thank you... Jeremy." She hoped that was his name.

He smiled before leaving. Moira couldn't help smiling as well. Maybe she had made a friend.

_**I wrote Jeremy and Moira's conversation by heart, so I'm sure it's not exactly the same. Their interaction was gay/lesbian solidarity.**_


	8. June goes missing

"I say, where is June?" Mrs. Johns looked around the table. Everyone else was there, even Moira, who had grudgingly agreed to come down to breakfast after much pestering from her stepfather and was pretending to be invested in her book. She had been quiet and distraught ever since yesterday.

"Probably sulking somewhere," suggested Alicia. "It's a nice change without her, don't you think? Much quieter."

Betty snickered in response. Mrs. Johns frowned at her.

"Do stop that, Alicia. Bridget, why don't you go and tell her to come down?"

"She wasn't in our room when I woke up," noted Bridget. "I thought she already came downstairs."

"That's quite odd," noted Mrs. Johns with a frown. "Go check again. Maybe she came and then went back to her room."

As Bridget obligingly left, the others recommenced their conversations. They were rather quiet that morning, not wanting the adults to know about the newspapers published yesterday. John had once tried to tell his aunt and uncle about the topic of the story regarding Alicia and Betty, but was silenced by withering glares from them. Moira had yet to touch a single item of food on her plate or look up from her book.

Bridget returned. "I couldn't find her."

"That is very odd," noted Mr. Johns. "She was there last night, right?"

"Yes. I'm certain," replied Bridget.

"How about the rest of you?" asked Mrs. Johns desperately. "Have you seen June this morning?"

Everyone at the table said they hadn't seen her, even though they all knew she had been there last night.

"I know what she's doing," said Alicia. "The little wretch is hiding somewhere, trying to make us feel bad for her."

Mrs. Johns was too distressed to scold her. "Let me check." She got out of her seat and headed out of the room.

"You're probably right, Alicia," Betty whispered to her friend once Mrs. Johns left. "She's probably hiding somewhere, sulking after yesterday."

"I still can't believe the little beast would post that story about us," Alicia replied, though she kind of could. It was probably revenge for publishing that article about her love poem to George. At least that couldn't get her in serious trouble. "Do you think they'll find out?"

June had severely embellished it, too. Alicia would never become some mindless drunk or smoking addict at the age of seventeen. She was merely trying to see what it was like. The alcohol was fine, if a bit strong and hard to get used to, but the cigarettes were vile. Alicia couldn't understand how people could get addicted to them, and she had barely tried any. But the way the article talked about it, you'd think they'd been getting completely drunk.

"Not if we keep our mouths shut," Betty whispered back.

When Mrs. Johns returned, June wasn't with her. "I checked all the rooms, and she wasn't there," she reported, looking worried.

"Let's finish breakfast," suggested Mr. Johns. "She'll probably show up by then."

The rest of breakfast went normally, though Bridget looked disappointed by the disappearance of her friend.

"Ah, peace and quiet," sighed Alicia. "I can't remember the last time breakfast was this peaceful. June should go missing more often."

"Agreed," said Betty. "But it's less fun without her to tease as well."

When breakfast was finished, June still hadn't returned. Mrs. Johns, panicked, made everyone search the house for her.

"She's probably too scared to show her face after what she did yesterday," remarked Alicia as she entered her and Betty's room.

"How did she find out what we were doing, anyway?" asked Betty. "I can't even remember the hour I was awake at."

"Probably spying on us," replied Alicia. The room was empty. "She was spying on me earlier as well. Probably trying to figure out something to post in the newspaper about me."

When they returned to the living room, no one had seen her. "This is really odd," declared Mrs. Johns, frowning. "She's nowhere in the house.

"Maybe she went to the stables," suggested Betty suddenly.

She perked up. "Yes, of course. She probably went to check on her horse." She left through the front door to check the stables.

When she returned, June still wasn't with her. "Where could she have gone?" Mrs. Johns starting wringing her hands in her dress, the way she always did when she was nervous.

"Maybe she's gone to the village," suggested Alicia, though she seriously doubted she would after the newspaper article published yesterday.

Mrs. Johns looked relieved. "Yes, good idea, Alicia. I'll go."

"No," said Mr. Johns. "She'll come back herself later. It's not the first time she's run off there."

"Well, when she gets back, she's in for a lecture," quipped Mrs. Johns, though she had seemed to calm down slightly.

About two hours later, June still hadn't returned. Bridget went into town with Mr. and Mrs. Johns to look for her.

"June going missing is the best thing she's done," Alicia told Betty as they were playing Monopoly with Sam. "It's much nicer without her."

"And quieter," added Betty as she moved her figurine.

"Well, I don't particularly want to see her after what she did yesterday," declared Sam. "Publishing that poem about Moira..."

Of course, Betty's jealousy flared up. "Oh, of course, how dare she hurt dear darling Moira. But you thought it was funny when she shaved my eyebrows off!"

Sam groaned as he rolled the dice. "Oh, good grief, Betty. That was ages ago."

Alicia shook her head in amusement. Betty really could get overly jealous over her brother.

"Speaking of Moira, she seems to be losing it," she said. "I can't blame her, after that article. I bet she's happier than anyone that June's gone." She almost felt bad for the girl, having a secret like that revealed.

"Well, it was worse what she published about us," declared Betty. "We're in for it if our parents read that article. I still can't believe she found out."

"My parents, I mean," noted Alicia glumly. "Yours aren't here."

"Well, I'm glad that article didn't mention me," said Sam.

Alicia glared at him. "If our parents find out, you have to admit you were the ones encouraging us. It's not fair for us to get in trouble and not you."

"Okay, okay," conceded Sam. "But I hope they won't find out."

"Of course June wouldn't tell on you," quipped Alicia.

"Seriously, where is she?" asked Sam. "I don't really want to see her, but I'm getting a bit worried."

"Maybe she's staying at Jeremy and Abigail's house," suggested Betty.

Sam shook his head. "No. Jeremy was mad at her too."

Suddenly, Mrs. Johns burst in, panting and looking frantic.

"I went into town to look for June, and I couldn't find her anywhere," she reported breathlessly, wringing her dress in her hands. "I checked all the shops, and asked some people. They said they hadn't seen her." Alicia was a bit surprised to hear that. June must really not want to be found. "Can you come into the village with me and help look for her again?"

"What's the point if you haven't seen her?" Alicia replied flippantly.

"It might be easier if you help me," her mother said.

Just then, Jeremy and Abigail came into the room, to Alicia's surprise. They both looked worried, though Abigail more so than Jeremy.

"Where's June?" Jeremy asked them. "I heard she's been missing since the morning."

"Thanks again for helping me search for her," Mrs. Johns told him and Abigail. "It was so nice of you. You must be good friends with June."

"Well, we had to help after finding out she was missing," said Abigail, though Jeremy rolled his eyes.

"We haven't seen her yet," Sam told the twins. "We thought you might."

"We haven't," said Jeremy.

Mrs. Johns' brow furrowed. "This is really odd. Where could she have gone?"

Bridget came by then, looking as if she'd been crying. "We have to find her! It's so lonely without her." Alicia felt a little bad for her. She knew how close she was to June.

"Don't worry, dear, we will," Mrs. Johns assured her. "Alicia, Sam, Betty, why don't you come into town with us again?"

"But we're having such a nice game of Monopoly," Alicia protested.

"Come on." Mrs. Johns left the room, not leaving room for argument.

"You really haven't seen her?" Jeremy asked them.

"We thought she was hiding somewhere to guilt trip us after that stunt she pulled yesterday," replied Alicia. "She probably is."

"Well, let's go search again," said Bridget. "I couldn't see her anywhere in town."

"Neither could we," added Jeremy. "We helped search for her after hearing she was missing."

"I thought you were mad at her," noted Sam.

"Well, yes... but I'm still curious where she is."

"So am I," admitted Betty. "If she's hiding somewhere, it has to be a really good place."

* * *

Soon they were all in town again, trying to look for her. Alicia found her mother was right. She was nowhere to be seen. Not at the grocery shop, not at the butcher's, not at the bookstore, not at the clothes store, not on the streets, not even in one of the public restrooms. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starting to worry. What if her cousin really was hurt? What if she had been kidnapped?

No, that was ridiculous, she told herself. June was probably just being dramatic again, trying to worry them. Well, it was working.

Alicia noticed two girls, Harriet Blake and Gretchen Stock, glare at her as she searched for June. They were obviously jealous she had asked Peter out on a date before they had the chance to. Honestly, she wasn't the least bit interested in him, but she just wanted to prove to June he had a thing for her. After going on a date, she had realised he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. In fact, he could give June's friend Bridget a run for her money. She said they should just be friends, and he had been disappointed, but agreed. At least he was a decent person.

Suddenly, it started to rain, causing everyone in town to seek shelter. Alicia and the others took cover in front of the grocery store, which had something overhead to shield the rain from them. None of them had found June.

Jeremy frantically shook his head, trying to shake out the water. He hated getting his hair wet, but stopped worrying about that quickly, seeming more concerned about June. Alicia's mother was pacing, her hands white as she clutched her dress. Alicia's father was trying to comfort her with little success. Bridget and Abigail had grown quiet, and Sam was biting his lip, his face pale. Alicia hated to admit she was starting to feel just a little worried as well.

"Don't laugh," Betty told Alicia, "but I'm getting a bit worried about June."

"Me too," admitted Alicia.

* * *

They waited for the rain to calm down so they could walk home, but it didn't seem to be subsiding any time soon. They had to walk through the downpour to get back to the house. By then, it was almost afternoon. Everyone in the house rushed to ask if they had found June, seeming frantic and worried themselves. They were all talking rapidly, asking about June. They were surprised when they found out she was still missing.

"We couldn't find her anywhere in the house," reported George. Usually Alicia would've teased him about his relationship with June, but she was too worried to.

"We went out to search for her in the countryside, but we couldn't find her there," added Matt. "What if something really bad happened to her?"

Tommy was crying quietly, tears dripping down his cheeks. "Is... is June okay?"

Mrs. Johns pulled him into a hug. "I'm sure she's fine, dear. We just haven't found her."

"Well we can't look for her now," noted Alicia. "It's raining."

"Yes we can!" Sam insisted suddenly. "We have to find her." He ran outside again.

"Come back!" Betty called after him, heading after him. "Where are you going?"

Mrs. Johns didn't seem to notice. She started pacing the room, burying her head in her hands. "Where could she be?"

"Don't worry, Mrs. Johns," said Moira, to Alicia's surprise. She seemed worried as well.

Suddenly, Abigail burst into tears. Jeremy turned to her, startled, placing a hand on her arm. "It's alright, Abbs."

"No it's not!" she insisted frantically. "If you hadn't been so mean to her, she wouldn't have left!"

"What?" Jeremy repeated incredulously. "She's the one who—"

"And now I'll never see her again! My only real friend!" Her sobbing halted, but tears still ran down her cheeks as she glared at Jeremy.

Despite the situation, Alicia couldn't help smirking. She knew Abigail was trying to guilt trip Jeremy for getting mad at her and June for publishing that article. Still, she knew her distress about June going missing was real. She probably couldn't fake tears like that.

"Alright, I'm sorry!" Jeremy awkwardly patted her arm.

Just then, Sam and Betty came back, both of them dripping wet again. "I had an idea," reported Sam. "We can use the horses to find June."

"But there's not enough of them for all of us," noted George.

"Yes, but it's better than walking out in the rain."

"Good idea," praised Mr. Johns. "But you'll have to go once you've dried yourselves off."

"What's the point?" asked Betty. "We'll just get wet again."

"I'll go!" insisted Bridget. "June's my friend. I have to find her."

"No, dear," protested Mrs. Johns. "Be a good little girl and stay here with Tommy. He needs someone to comfort him." It was true. The little boy was crying again, worried about his sister.

Bridget huffed. "So just because I'm a girl, I can't go?" Alicia rolled her eyes. She knew Bridget wasn't too bright.

"I'll stay," announced Moira, in a kind voice Alicia didn't think she was capable of using. "Don't worry, Mrs. Johns. I'm sure June will be found."

Mrs. Johns smiled slightly. "Thank you, Moira. You're a dear."

"Well? What are we waiting for?" demanded Sam, already running outside again. "Let's go!"

* * *

"It's okay, Mrs. Johns," soothed Moira. "They'll find her."

Mrs. Johns dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. "I just can't stop worrying. What if something horrible happened to her?"

"I'll make you another cup of tea," offered Moira.

She smiled slightly. "Thank you, dear. You've been such a help."

Moira headed into the kitchen. As much as she hated to admit it, she was worried about June as well. She hardly liked the girl, but she didn't want to find out she had died or gotten kidnapped. Her sister Bridget had wanted to go out to find June too, but was told to stay at home. Moira felt bad for her. She knew her sister was good friends with June.

She returned to the living room, handing Mrs. Johns the tea. She had been a mess ever since June had gone missing. She had probably just run away, trying to guilt everyone after that article she had published the other day. Moira still hadn't gotten over it. It was her greatest secret, and now everyone in the village knew.

Suddenly, Tommy came into the living room, looking as if he had been crying. Moira felt sorry for the little boy. If her sister had gone missing... despite how much they argued, she'd be even more worried about her.

"Is June back yet?" he asked tearfully.

"I'm afraid not, dear," said Mrs. Johns sadly. Then Bridget came in, looking equally forlorn.

"You should've let me go out to look for her!" she declared.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Johns looked up with hope, and wasn't disappointed when the front door opened and Alicia entered with a very annoyed and potentially ill June with her. Mrs. Johns started scolding and comforting June at the same time, clearly relieved to see her. Moira let out a sigh of relief. She was glad nothing had happened to the girl, as annoying as she was. Bridget immediately ran up to her, and her, Mrs. Johns, and Alicia started talking at the same time.

* * *

There weren't enough horses for everyone, but some people volunteered to come even if they had to walk. Alicia couldn't help the worry that filled her as she guided her horse, the rain pouring down on her. What if June really had gotten hurt? What if no one ever found her?

She couldn't quite understand the worry she felt for her cousin, but she couldn't help it. Despite how much she teased her, she didn't hate her or want her dead. Well, when she found her, she'd give her the scolding of a lifetime for running off like that.

The rain made it difficult to see. She kept her head down, hoping the horse knew where he was going. Finally, the rain subsided, though it was still pouring a little. She looked up to see a forest in the distance. She was about to head back when the idea struck her. June wouldn't be stupid enough to go into a forest, would she? Then again, this was June.

She dismounted the horse and entered the forest, where darkness encompassed her. She took out the torchlight she had brought that was thankfully dry. As she walked through, she saw nothing but an expanse of trees and snow covering the ground. She supposed it must've snowed there along with the rain. She was about to give up and head back when she saw it. A figure lying under a tree, in the snow.

She ran over and, to both her relief and anger, saw it was June. She was asleep, her back slumped against the tree and her legs on the snow. She was muttering to herself, though Alicia didn't pay attention. She immediately started shaking her cousin, yelling with more than a little annoyance for her to wake up. She kept muttering in her sleep, about someone called Bimbo. When she woke up, she was confused, and then horrified to see Alicia. Apparently she had been having a dream about a snowman she had created.

Alicia forced her to come home, complaining all the way. She had every right to, after everything June had put everyone through. She wailed about how everyone hated her and was happy when she left, and Alicia assured her nobody hated her with more than a little annoyance and plenty of insults. She admited she didn't hate her either, though she didn't know why. She was glad to have her back, if only because it meant she could keep teasing her.

**I liked how Alicia admitted she didn't hate June when she ran away and talked about how worried everyone was. Then she immediately goes back to teasing her. She's such a typical older sibling/cousin.**


End file.
